Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Haiti and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Last Poets to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Dorothy Ashby. All the underground hits.
All Marshall Jefferson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every AZ record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Panda Bear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mad Mike,
Alison Limerick,
New York Dolls,
Accadde A,
Kenny Larkin,
Aloha Tigers,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
U.S. Maple,
The Dirtbombs,
Alton Ellis,
Rites of Spring,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Barclay James Harvest,
Skriet,
Slave,
The Velvet Underground,
The Gladiators,
Goldenarms,
Sandy B,
Oneida,
Brothers Johnson,
CMW,
Jimmy McGriff,
Big Daddy Kane,
Blake Baxter,
Altered Images,
The Names,
the Normal,
Arthur Verocai,
Judy Mowatt,
Fat Boys,
Angry Samoans,
The Wake,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Young Marble Giants,
Delta 5,
Terry Callier,
A Certain Ratio,
Rapeman,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
LL Cool J,
MC5,
Smog,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
World's Most,
Lou Christie,
Delon & Dalcan,
Chris Corsano,
Section 25,
Iggy Pop,
The Residents,
Pussy Galore,
Skarface,
Todd Terry,
Funkadelic,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Masters at Work,
Sex Pistols,
Absolute Body Control,
John Foxx,
Trumans Water,
Stockholm Monsters,
Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.